It Won't Be Long
by MissMimsy
Summary: Everyone thinks they're in a sweet relationship, but Arthur never gave a second thought about his best friend giving him valentines: All that's about to change when Arthur realizes that maybe he's been dating Alfred for years without even knowing it. AU
1. When the Truth Breaks Through

When they were young he watched him save lives. He watched him as he shone and he wanted to be like that so badly. They grew up on a small street in a medium sized town, the satellite of a big city where crime ran wild, rampant on the streets, in the offices, and vigilantes grew until the media said they were superheroes when times were good and they were useless when times were bad. The street was quiet, it ran house after quaint house down one side and down the other, few children but many older couples who watched from their porches in the amber summer light. It was always rain in the city, but here the weather mellowed into a syrupy sepia that left a beautiful nostalgia running all over everything like rivers of fond memories. Arthur was older by a three months, but he never once felt it because Alfred just shone right over barriers, over lines and anything that separated you from his smile. From the time that they had met, before they could even talk, Arthur had wanted to follow Alfred. And, as he grew older, he realized this meant he like Alfred, and that they should be friends.

Their parents had also been friends from the time they were little, living next to each other in butter yellow and blue houses with a picket fence each, the Jones' yard covered in hydrangea and Gerber daisies of all colors where the Kirkland's was bordered with brilliant roses. Many a backyard barbeque and dinner party had shoved Arthur and Alfred together, the shining golden boy tugging the slightly grumpy sandy blonde behind him on all sorts of adventures. When they were in elementary school together, Alfred shoved the bullies away and grinned at him, that silly smile, all missing teeth and charm, and shared his cookies. In junior high, he ignored the girls' starting sighs and signed up for the local football team (really it was soccer but since Arthur called it footy Alfred did too), throwing thumbs ups to the fold out chair on the side of the field where Arthur sat reading a book and drinking tea from a thermos every practice. When they got to high school, he was on the school team as a starting goalie (so he could 'save the day'- "See, get it Artie, I'm being all heroic and stuff all the time now!"), and every girl wanted him.

They wanted the way he would pull open doors for Arthur and the way he carried his books because 'Arthur looked tired today' and the way that he smiled that sweet, silly, heroic smile at him. And Arthur didn't realize for a long time that Alfred had spent their entire high school career treating him like a girlfriend. He didn't realize that it was odd Alfred would give up a night out with his teammates to sit down, curl an arm around his shoulders, and watch "A Room with a View" (Arthur's favorite movie), that Alfred would bring Arthur his favorite yellow roses on the first day of spring when they began carrying them at the local flower shop, that normal people didn't get a heart full of their favorite toffee candy for Valentines from Alfred F. Jones, Golden Boy Officíal.

It was a semester into their second year of college, when Alfred's quiet twin brother Matthew looked over the rim of his tea cup whilst they were studying for a bio test together and said, "What are you and Alfred doing for your anniversary this year?" that Arthur realized quite how oblivious he'd been all those years.

"What?" he asked dumbfoundedly. Matthew just stared, setting his cup down and shoving his papers into a folder.

"That hoser," he swore, fumbling for his phone in his voluminous hoodie pocket. Arthur set his own cup down.

"What? Wait, Matthew, what is it? What are you talking about?" Matthew slammed his hands flat on the table.

"Let me get this straight- you and Alfred are not in a committed romantic relationship." Arthur shook his head slowly.

"Not that I know of." Matthew threw his head back and laughed sarcastically.

"That's the key, Arthur- not that you know of." He sat back down, grimacing. "Arthur, everyone thinks you and Alfred have been going out since forever." Arthur gaped, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"S-since forever?" he asked. Matthew nodded.

"Since at least seventh grade." Arthur sat back, laughing a little, shocked.

"Bloody hell..." He blinked a little. "And Alfred just let them think that?" Matthew giggled a bit hysterically.

"Alfred perpetuated it, in fact. Why else do you think you got all those flowers, those chocolates, those sweet notes taped to your locker, the homemade cookies at lunch, the doors held open?" He shook his head. "The list goes on and on, Arthur. The two of you have been acting like a couple for seven whole years now, and you haven't even been aware of it."

"Wait a second," he said suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "Does that mean Alfred doesn't actually find the story Lucy Honeychurch and George the pinnacle of romantic epics?" Matthew laughed.

"He actually prefers Leia and Han Solo, sorry," he confessed. "But he loved the way you would hold the pillow tight to your chest during the last scene of A Room with a View and make, and I quote, 'adorable little faces and just coo like it was the cutest scene ever'." Arthur just sat there in disbelief.

"The- the nerve of that man, thinking that some- some trumped up space pilot could ever be more romantic that George, I just-" Matthew held his hand out.

"Arthur. The point of this is that everyone, including our parents, think that you're in a relationship with Alfred, and you had no clue. The point is, what are you going to do?" He blinked, wide eyed.

He rather liked the flowers. He rather liked the candy. And he found Alfred's courtesy and holding doors open, carrying books and groceries and bringing him tea at the bookshop where he worked very dashing and charming. So he came to a debated conclusion.

"Nothing. I'm not going to do anything."

This may or may not continue. I'm trying to get past a writer's block for _Break the Sky _so I thought I'd write up a little thing I thought of. If I do continue this AU (if enough people like it) it will be M-rated, possibly with smut included. So yeah. =u=

~MM


	2. Alfred Realizes He Must Woo His Lois

Chapter Two:

Alfred F. Jones felt mildly disconcerted, and he couldn't place his finger on why. Perhaps it was the small smiley face on the end of the text Mattie had sent him, telling him they were having his favorite Thai food for dinner. Because he knew that he'd eaten the last of maple cookies and he knew that Mattie was totally pissed off about it. Yeah, it must have been that. He turned to Arthur, who was looking exceptionally lovely today as he drove them back to the flat (because Alfred insisted that he should learn to drive on the 'right' side of the road, even though Arthur had never lived in England and his accent was slight and picked up entirely from his relatives), and frowned.

"Arthur, has Mattie mentioned any plans to poison me lately?" he asked, slightly paranoid now. Those maple cookies were pretty damn important to his twin brother, after all, and he wouldn't put it past the normally quiet man to slip something into his food, especially if it was his favorite and he was bound to inhale it as soon as it was in front of him. Arthur scoffed.

"No, he hasn't, oddly enough." He frowned. "Why, did you do something wrong? Like cancel the NHL channel, or eat all the maple cookies?" Alfred turned away guiltily.

"I, uh, may or may not have eaten all the, uh, maple cookies," he whispered, fiddling with his fingers. Arthur shook his head gravely and sighed.

"Looks like it'll just be me and Mattie splitting the rent from now on then," he said sagely. "You really should stay away from the Tom Kha soup tonight, I guess. Watch your back and all. He's bound to get you soon." Alfred groaned and poked Arthur's shoulder, slightly hurt.

"You could at least be serious, Artie. Mattie could be slipping strychnine and cyanide into the Pad Thai as we speak!" Arthur laughed, turning down their exit off the freeway and stopping at the red light before looking over at Alfred seriously.

"Alfie, love, I don't think he's going to poison you. He's grown too fond of you over the years." Alfred gaped, even as the light changed and Arthur sat back to the driver's seat, driving off like nothing had happened, a slight smirk on his face and Alfred just sat there, dazed and happy without quite knowing why until they parked in front of the flat and Arthur told him to hurry up or the food would get cold.

All through dinner he swore the blush was from the curry (damn it Mattie, I told you heroes only eat medium spicy curry), because Matthew had gotten full strength spicy again and his heroic tastebuds were reacting viciously to the evils of capsaicin. But later, when he and Matthew were doing the dishes and Arthur was holed up in his room working on a knitting project, Matthew did what he did best: got to the heart of the truth.

"You," he said, turning to him and pointing an accusingly soapy finger at Alfred, "never asked Arthur out properly, did you?" Alfred choked on the swig of coke he'd taken in between drying dishes and stared at Mattie.

"What the hell?" He said, pounding on his chest. "Mattie, where did you get that idea? I totally asked him out, for real! All heroic like and everything!" Matthew just shook his head and leaned back.

"You're an oblivious blithering dumbbell, you know that? The both of you are, actually. Arthur only marginally less." He crooked an eyebrow. "When and how exactly did you ask him out?"

Alfred struggled to think. Uh, when _had_ he, exactly?

"I, uh," he stuttered. "I gave him a strawberry ring pop on Valentines day in the seventh grade and asked him to be mine. That's how I asked him out." Matthew sighed wearily.

"Alfred," he groaned, shaking the other man by the shoulders. "That's not a proper proposal, nor is it a way to ask someone out. I hope you know that." Alfred stood stock still, shocked.

"But I won't need to ask anyone else out,so why does that even matter if it's proper?" he said, the first thing that came to mind. Matthew flicked his brother's forehead.

"You. Are. An. Idiot," he sighed. "What I'm saying is, you think you and Arthur have been going out, correct?" Alfred nodded like Matthew was stupid.

"Well duh, because we have. Jeez Mattie, where have you even been?"

"Did you even listen to me, you hoser? Arthur doesn't know that you've been going out, because you never even asked him! You never asked him on a date, or told him he was a great boyfriend, or brought him a fucking corsage for prom, or anything!"

"Hey," Alfred said defensively. "I take him on tons of great dates, and in my defense the boutonniere I got for prom got run over by Grandma." Matthew fairly screamed in frustration.

"Arthur DOESN'T FUCKING KNOW THEY'RE DATES." He said, as plainly as possible. "Whether you think you asked him out or not, he doesn't know you're going out, and it's going to come as a great surprise to him when he learns that he has been dating you without his knowledge for seven straight years." _Well, it's going to come as a great surprise when he lets __**you **__know he knows,_ he thought to himself. _Considering I already broke that bubble like an elephant on an ice rink._

"_**Oh**_," Alfred said faintly. "That might explain how come we don't make out when I have him sit in the back row of the theater with me. Actually, come to think of it, we've _never_ made out. Or even kissed." Alfred looked stricken. "Oh god, that explains everything!" He wailed.

"Yes," Matthew said slowly, amazed at his brother's sheer obtuseness. "It certainly does." He sat the wobbly and sort of green Alfred down at the kitchen table carefully. "Now, what are you going to do?"

"March in there like a hero and demand that he date me for reals?" Alfred said, straightening up. Matthew shook his head despairingly. "March in there like a hero and _ask _that he date me for reals?"

"Alfie," he murmured. "Arthur will need time to get used to the idea of dating the guy who he thinks has been his platonic best friend for years on end, okay? You're going to have to be a real hero, like one of the ones in the comic books, and you're going to have to pursue your leading 'lady' properly." Alfred hesitated, then nodded, grinning.

"I can totally do that," he exclaimed, striking a pose with the dish towel. "I will woo Arthur like the total hero I am! He will totally be my Lois Lane! This is a mere obstacle in the path of our epic romance!" Matthew tried not to cry inside, resolving to call Francis later and ask him for help so that Alfred didn't completely scare Arthur off. "This is just like if Lois Lane got amnesia, and Superman had to be all Clark Kent-y and make her fall in love with the both of them again and oh my gosh, Mattie, this is going to be the most epical love story ever-"

"Mon dieu, Alfred," Matthew muttered under his breath, going back to the dishes. "Please don't fuck this up."

* * *

><p>Alright, decided to continue this. Might be patchy for a while, I've got a boatload of AP Chemistry hw to do ^_^;;<p>

Thank you so much for all of the beautiful, encouraging, lovely reviews. I can't believe this got such positive feedback!


	3. Arthur's First Attempt at Reciprocity

Chapter Three: Arthur's First Move

Or, Arthur Attempts Reciprocity

* * *

><p>It began slowly, like the ground thawing out after a harsh winter. Arthur, so used to receiving affection, had difficulties getting used to giving it: Alfred, so used to getting nothing back from his flirtatious grins and gestures, had no way to really deal with the sudden influx of reciprocation, however faint it was. And Matthew, relieved that they were both finally getting it (<em><strong>finally<strong>_), sat back and watched a hockey game happily.

It was a strange couple of weeks, to say the least.

* * *

><p>Friday, Arthur got off of work early. He had no classes, so he took the morning shift at the bookstore and used the afternoon to catch up on homework. Alfred, however, had a morning anatomy class, and the afternoon shift working at the local daycare (he was going to become a pediatrician after he finished his degrees, and loved working with children). Arthur, keeping in mind Matthew's advice to try reaching out and meeting Alfred halfway in his affection, stopped off at the local deli after work and picked up two sandwiches and a couple of cookies, packaging them up in a brown bag and arriving at the daycare around 3 o'clock. He knew Alfred wouldn't have stopped to eat lunch, too absorbed in finger painting or beading or playing 'head's up, seven up' with the kids to take his half hour break. When he had checked in his visitors' badge at the front desk (Alfred had brought him home one the first day he'd begun working there), he made his way down to the big playroom where the daycare was held, opening the door quietly and standing in the doorway with a small smile on his face. Alfred was currently pinned to the floor, the other two older women who worked there smiling indulgently as they watched him playfully wrestle with the kids, faking wounded sighs as they tugged on the superhero cape he'd probably donned the minute he got there from class. He laughed as the kids shrieked in glee, tumbling all over him, mischievously attempting to tickle him until he cried mercy.<p>

"Alfred," one of them whispered, tugging at his ear to get his attention. He sat up, carefully shaking giggling toddlers and kindergartners off his frame and tumbling them gently to the floor.

"What is it, Nickie?" Alfred leaned in, asking the little boy quietly. He pointed over to the door where Arthur stood, someone having finally noticed him, and Alfred turned, his face lighting up when he made eye contact with the other man.

"Artie!" He yelled across to the other man, half making to stand up as Arthur entered the classroom. "Did you come to be my Peggy Carter for story time today? I'm gonna be Steve Rogers and save the world!" Arthur laughed, holding up a brown paper bag for him to see.

"I figured you never got around to taking your lunch break, and we all know the hero needs to be well fed..." He said, shrugging a little. One of the older ladies, Sally, stood up, waving Alfred off the floor.

"Come on, Alfred, take your lunch break already. I'm sure that Mabel and I can handle them on our own long enough for you to eat whatever Arthur's brought you. Lord knows you need it, growing boy full of energy like you." She smiled kindly at Arthur, pushing them out the door to one of the picnic tables in the lunch area outside the room and shutting out the dull roar of the twenty or so children with a click of the handle.

Alfred flopped himself down on the bench, Arthur sitting on the opposite side and placing the paper bag in between them, unpacking the sandwiches and pushing Alfred's over to his side along with a bottle of iced tea.

"I brought you a club sandwich again," he said, shrugging as he opened his bacon-lettuce-tomato on sourdough. "I figured you'd be fine with it, since it's your favorite. They didn't have chocolate milk though, so I just brought tea." Alfred pouted a little, but flashed him a sunny grin.

"Thanks, Arthur. I probably would have forgotten to take lunch if you hadn't brought anything." Arthur rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his own drink.

"I know, that's why I brought you some. I figured you'd be too preoccupied with the kids to take care of yourself." Alfred laughed, muffled through a bite of his sandwich.

"That's why I have you," he said sincerely, grin softening into a gentle smile as he made eye contact with Arthur across the table. Arthur coughed a little, looking down at the label on his bottle and picking at it slightly.

"Of course, you ridiculous child. If I didn't remind you to eat, you'd run about until you collapsed from malnourishment, playing the hero."

"Hey," Alfred said, mockingly affronted. "I don't just _play_ the hero, I _am_ a hero." Arthur nodded placatingly.

"Of course, dear." He said absently, finishing off the last bits of his half a sandwich, wrapping the rest for tomorrow's lunch and fishing out the cookies from the bag. Alfred blushed slightly at his practiced response- they'd had this conversation many times before (though it had always been 'of course, Alfred' before what Matthew was calling '_The Revelation'_). Handing him an oatmeal cookies, Arthur leaned back, weighing his thoughts. The playground/lunch area was deserted except for them, the wind blowing silently across rippling grass and the swings creaking lightly in the breeze, the dull sound of the children playing coming from the classroom ten yards to the right. It was actually... peaceful. Arthur didn't think he'd seen Alfred so calm in quite a while, the boisterous male always doing something, cracking a joke or grinning brightly as he complimented Arthur's outfit, debating sports with Matthew or holding a spirited study group in the living room of the flat. He liked it. He liked the way Alfred's brow scrunched up a little bit, his face animated even when he wasn't making a sound, everything about him screaming 'movement'. Arthur wondered what it would be like to draw him. Though he'd been very into art in high school, drawing most of their mutual friends at some point or another, he'd never attempted to draw Alfred.

Maybe it was the fact that it didn't even feel like pictures could accurately capture Alfred's famous charming grin. Or the fact that Arthur didn't feel like any color, any pencil line could ever really put the essence of Alfred's sheer abundance of life on flat paper. Alfred was more of a sculpture than anything, but not even that. He vibrated with direction, an agitation of the particles around him. And Arthur, usually content with lazy rainy days and a cup of tea behind the counter of the book shop, found it a nice contrast to himself.

"Alfred," he said hesitantly, looking back from his perusal of the school yard around them. "Would you, um, would you like to go out tomorrow night?" Alfred choked on his drink a little.

"Uh, what?" he said eloquently, coughing up bits of oatmeal cookie into a napkin.

"I asked if you wanted to go out tomorrow night. You know, maybe go for dinner, see a movie or something? We could see that X-men movie you liked so much when you went with Kiku..." He trailed off, beginning to feel a bit foolish about how awkward he was, even just asking Alfred to do something with him. Alfred hacked a bit more before wiping his mouth, setting the balled up napkin down.

"Oh, Arthur, I would love to," he said happily, words a bit strained from his coughing fit. "I just didn't- I didn't expect that. You never want to go anywhere. Are you sure that's what you want to do? We could watch Lucy and George again," he wiggled his eyebrows. "I know how much you like it when Cecil gets dumped." Arthur contemplated it for a moment. It would be so easy to just cave in, give in and do what they did every other Saturday night: nothing. But that wasn't how a relationship worked, it wasn't reciprocal to just do what Arthur wanted every time, without regard to what the more social Alfred would have liked. He shook his head.

"Nah," he said, smiling over at Alfred. "I want to see if your wildly ecstatic review of X-men: First Class was in any way accurate." And it felt good, Arthur decided, to see how animated Alfred got talking about something he was so passionate about. Something he genuinely enjoyed. It was worth it by far to put up with crowds of people and the general noise of the downtown area, because he got to watch Alfred enjoy himself.

A Room With a View could wait. Arthur had plans.

Plans with Alfred.

* * *

><p>So, here we go- the set up for the first 'date', as it were. Arthur's trying to give back some of the affection he gets from Alfred with subtle invitations and shunting in little endearments here and there, and Alfred is still trying to figure out what sort of romantic gestures to make to coerce Arthur into falling in love with Hero. A little Captain America reference in there for you all- I've always thought if Alfred were a legit superhero he'd be Captain America, but that's just me. (I don't actually ship Cap and Peggy though, I ship Cap and Tony in the future when he's thawed out: it's just the slash fan in me and my deeply ingrained love of Tony Stark XD)<p>

Thanks for all the reviews- this is the most I've ever gotten, and it's really encouraging. I'm still deciding exactly how to organize this story, but it might be Arthur's Move, Alfred's Move, Arthur's Move, etc. as they get closer to an actual relationship. I don't know when I'll have time for the next chapter, as my Grandpa's in the hospital so these next few weeks could be pretty unpredictable. But I'll try to tap out the first 'date-nightout-outing-thingy' when I can.

3- MM


	4. In Which Progress is Definitely Made

Chapter Four: In Which Alfred Gets Excited Over Small Things

* * *

><p>Matthew was almost at the point where he shoved a shot of whiskey under Alfred's nose and told him, despairingly, to just get some damn dutch courage and get out there. Almost. But the way Alfred bounced up and down while Matthew looked him over and decided whether or not he was in date suitable attire was just so- Matthew would have felt like he was kicking a puppy had he shoved him out there without reassuring him that Arthur wasn't about to ditch him in the middle of the date or somehow mysteriously decide he hated him halfway through the movie. But after the seventy third time Alfred took a deep breath and huffed it out and asked Matthew in a plaintive voice if he thought it was okay to hold hands during dinner, Matthew was going to crack. Seriously.<p>

"Mattie?" came Alfred's voice, backed by big watery blue eyes. "What if-" Matthew held up a hand and cut him off, one hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Alfred Freedom Jones, if you don't go out there-" Alfred backed off quickly, eyes widening a little in fear.

"Don't, please, I'll stop asking, just don't try to style the cowlick again," he said, backpedaling through the doorway into the living room and nearly flipping backwards over the couch, managing to crash into Arthur along the way, the two of them stumbling until Arthur had fallen against Alfred, pressed up against the couch awkwardly. Matthew's ire melted slightly at the sight of them babbling, stuttering as they attempted to untangle themselves, a vivid blush on his brother's cheeks and Arthur's viridian eyes averted. He felt like he was intruding slightly as he watched the way Alfred tried to pass off a wholly unconscious reach of his hand towards Arthur's cheek as a maneuver to brush a piece of lint out of Arthur's hair.

"There you go, no more fuzzies," Alfred said, laughing awkwardly. Matthew shut the door between the kitchen and the living room, returning to the sink to wash out the coffee mugs as Arthur stared uncomfortably long at Alfred's face, opening his mouth to say something. Matthew wasn't sure he wanted to know what that something ended up being, because it was most likely a painful wound to his own self proclaimed romanticism. He rued the day he got all of the romance genes in the family: Alfred could have stood to gain a few. But at the end of the night, Alfred was progressing (with help), and Arthur wasn't entirely hopeless, so Matthew could, perhaps, persuade his mother hen tendencies when it came to the two to calm down a bit and let him watch a hockey game in peace. _Yes_, he decided. _Hockey was good_. _Hockey was low stress. Hockey was not a touchy subject about his bumbling house mates. _

_Hockey was good. _

* * *

><p>"So," Alfred said, standing a few feet away from the line to the movie theatre, rocking on his heels. "You're totally okay with seeing X-Men? Like, completely? Cause we don't have to, really, we can see a romance movie. Or somethin' like that." Arthur smiled up at him, squeezing the hand that Alfred had gracelessly insinuated against his on the walk from the car park.<p>

"Totally." He said, tugging him towards the line. "I am totally okay with seeing it. I want to see what the hype is about." Alfred grinned, laughing sort of nervously.

"Okay, cool, great, I'll just, uh, I'll just get two tickets for that, then." _Oh god_, he thought to himself. _Please don't let him find out that this movie is the reason I sometimes pretend he's Charles and his accent is stronger and he telepathically dirty talks to me. Please. Or the one about me as Erik, that'd be bad too._ He mentally bemoaned his position. _Actually, just please never let me blurt out any of my fantasies, okay? Particularly the pirate one._

* * *

><p>Alfred was obviously trying very hard to make this the best possible night out for Arthur. He'd graciously deferred to his choices in movie candy, gotten him his favorite soda, going so far as to hold open all the doors for him. Even the door to the restroom, which was slightly strange but charming in an all-thumbs, fumbling sort of way. Arthur didn't mind much that he picked seats in the very back of the hardly crowded theatre, despite all their choices closer to the screen. The movie was really quite interesting, actually. There were many moments where Arthur found himself truly engrossed in the play of characters, the dynamics between Charles and Erik. He watched the scene on the beach with apprehension, tensing up when Charles fell at the bullet. Alfred's thumb rubbed soothingly over the back of his hand, leaning in.<p>

"Hey," he whispered gently. "Don't worry, it turns out okay." Arthur turned to make a sharp retort about he was completely not worried about the fictional character gasping in the sand, only to find Alfred's blue eyes reflecting the changing scenes on the screen far closer than he'd thought. And he thought, for a brief moment, that maybe Alfred wasn't talking about Charles and Erik.

"I-" Arthur started, then stopped, swallowing. "Yeah, it will be." Alfred smiled softly, nodding his head to the screen just in time for Arthur to catch the former Hellfire club and its new members linking hands and vanishing from the beach, leaving the rest empty-hearted and missing a piece of themselves on the blood and shrapnel soaked sand. He let himself lean his head against Alfred's still almost too close shoulder as he watched Charles roll along the pathway at the mansion, as the credits rolled and the lights slowly returned. When it's time to leave he doesn't quite have the heart to let go of Alfred altogether, because over the course of the movie, in such a short period of time, it's become apparent that he rather likes Alfred's warmth beside him in the dark, a rock to hold on to while he is tossed through the journey of the movie. And there are other things he'd like Alfred beside him in the dark for, but that's a thought too far along for him to really fully think out, so he abandons it for now and settles for happily swinging their hands between them as they walk out of the theater into the cold night air.

"Did you like it?" Alfred asks unnecessarily, simply talking to fill the space between them, a space that is rapidly becoming one not needing small talk for comfort. Arthur takes a deep breath, looking up at the stars above and then letting it out, cold mist towards the specks of light he wants to futilely reach up at and attempt to capture. The stars remind him of Alfred, of how Alfred used to talk to them when they lay in their tree house during the summertime. How Alfred just seemed to know what was up there, how he wanted to tell Arthur all about it so he could share it with someone. With his very own someone, his most important someone.

"I did," he says after a period of nostalgia, a fond glance over at the taller blond. "It was... nice. Yeah, nice. Of course, not as nice as _A Room With a View_, but still... Charles makes an acceptable diversion from Lucy." Alfred laughed, his head thrown back and voice clear in the deserted park they're walking through to get to the parking garage where the car is. It's really so perfectly lovely to Arthur, the line of his jaw against the navy blue night, the way his eyes glint too candy sky sweet when he looks back down at Arthur, and he can't really help himself. He's not completely responsible for what happens next, because really Alfred should stop being so unconsciously good at doing things Arthur finds perfectly lovely, but he supposes Alfred might be forgiven because it didn't really turn out a disaster.

He kisses him.

It's not really an action movie style kiss, where all of the sudden there's tongue and they're groping and their desire is unlocked like a wildfire of pent up passions. It's not a romance movie kiss either, because those are usually less awkward. Or a period drama kiss, complete with dipping and bending and torrid revelations about _feelings_. But it's a _nice_ kiss, a _gorgeous_ kiss.

It's a kiss where Arthur tugs a little at the collar of Alfred's bomber jacket and bends him down in a sort of uncomfortable position so he can reach his lips, missing by a centimeter and really Arthur just hits him with a soft kiss halfway off his mouth and basically centered at the right corner of his lips. And then he lets go, he turns away like nothing happened, like Alfred isn't staring, and keeps walking towards the car. It's not quite the moment of a lifetime in the terms of cinematic brilliance, but it's enough. It's more than enough. And it's far more than enough to make Alfred so happy the feeling swells up inside his chest to the point where he can't even barely choke out words on the drive home. Arthur just switches on the radio, a small smile quirking his lips, not minding the silence because it's a fine end to their date, just winding down as they get closer to the apartment. Well, Arthur's winding down and Alfred's winding up and up and up to the point where once Arthur's hung his coat and hugged him briefly goodnight before retreating to his room, Alfred muffles a screech in a pillow and does a silly little dance with lots of punching the air and tiny squeaks of success. Matthew watches him indulgently from the couch, smiling widely until Alfred calms down enough to collapse against the cushions of the loveseat.

"I take it went well?" Matthew asks unnecessarily. Alfred grins, his chest still feeling too full.

"Dude. Dude. Bro. We held _hands_," he says dreamily. Matthew nods approvingly, surreptitiously rolling his eyes a little bit.

"Impressive. What progress." Alfred closes his eyes and leans his head back, his fingers tapping, his whole body all jacked up on happiness. He doesn't know if he's ever felt this good.

"We made it to first base," he sighs. Matthew arches an eyebrow.

"Really? Tongue already?" Alfred sits up quickly, looking suspiciously over at his skeptical brother.

"Wait, wait. There had to be tongue?" Matthew nods again, and Alfred groans. "Man... So close. Can we call it, um, a hit? Cause, there wasn't tongue, but our lips were all touchy sort of, I mean, he kissed the corner, that counts, right? Sort of? It was kiss, totally. Cause lips were definitely pressing against my face and stuff." Matthew heaves a sympathetic sigh and pats Alfred on the shoulder, getting up to get another cup of coffee.

"You'll get there, Alfie." Alfred groans, falling back against the couch back again.

"Foiled again," he said, a smile tugging at his mouth still because let's face it- Arthur's lips were on his, if only partially, and that's more than he's ever had before. And it briefly occurs to him that 'foiled again' seems more like something a villain would say, but honestly he's still so blissed out on the progress that he doesn't mind if he has to be the Magneto to Arthur's adorable Professor X. As long as the story changes so nobody gets paralyzed and they stay together, he doesn't care.

Because in the end he's always closer to Arthur, no matter how you look at it.

And closer to Arthur is always where he wants to be.

* * *

><p>So here we are, the first 'date'. Progress, people, progress. And a little insight into Alfred's fantasies about being a super hero with Arthur as his stunning sidekick in spandex. :D<p>

Thanks for all the great reviews, they make me so incredibly happy, and I'm honestly astounded with the sheer amount of feedback I've received. So thank you soooo much!

I don't know when the next update will be, but hopefully soon. -MM


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